Sundays seem to involve a great deal of hospitality. But there's a funny thing about Sabbath hospitality ––– the moment you think you're the one being hosted, you wind up pouring the drinks or laying out the cutlery. Similarly, just when you've got the tablecloth corners squared and the candles lit, someone else invites you to sit and feast.
Sabbath hospitality always involves some sort of mutuality. We sit at the Lord's table and as we eat and drink, we both host Christ and are hosted by Christ. We exchange a handshake in our pews and pass between our palms a gesture of reconciliation made complete in the mutual willingness to offer and receive 'a sign of God's peace'.
I enjoy hosting and being hosted, sometimes one more than the other. I'm grateful in the end, though, that the two aren't mutually exclusive, but rather, mutually inclusive, our lives forever woven to each other and to God in reciprocity.
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